Whispers from another life
by SenzaTempo
Summary: There are many secrets Spencer Reid harbours. All of them are deadly. And he's sure that, if he was to tell anyone, he'd be in Bennington before he could say 'Quidditch' so he tries- and almost manages- to forget them. Albus Dumbledore just has to come and destroy all of his hard work. Bringing back with him painful memories he'd rather not face again.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and Harry Potter aren't mine.**

 **Warnings: Nothing for now, I still don't know if there will be in future.** **I changed the timeline a bit.**

 **This happens _after_ Maeve and _before_ the whole thing with Cat Adams. Also, Emily is on the team. I'm not sure about where Alex went. Obviously the events in Harry Potter and CM happened sooner than in the books, in 1992 with Harry being born a few years earlier in 1978. This happens during The Order Of The Phoenix. I'm not a native speaker, so feel free to suggest other words or correct my grammar. Sorry, it isn't long like I wanted but it's a start. Hopefully they'll get longer. Don't expect monthly updates, I write pretty slowly.**

 _"That night I dreamt I was at my funeral again. A raindrop fell on my head, followed by many others until the sky was pouring on us months worth of rain. No one looked at me twice, my identity was hidden with a black cape. It would seem strange but I wasn't the only one dressed like that. The darkest stain of society was reunited here, because, even if I was a traitor, I shared- **share** \- their precious blood and family pretends, at least, to care for each other. A lightning light up the sky for a few moments, casting a ghostly light on my grave. It was as dark as Death and twice as cold. On the unforgiving stone was carved my name. A name that wasn't mine anymore. At which I couldn't respond to. In front of it, my mother stood silent, eyes set, mouth a hard line. Not a tear was to be seen in her eyes. She wasn't mourning me. There wasn't sorrow in her, nor regret. The cause of all her pains was dead, after all, so why would she feel any kind of sorrow?_ _My **dear** mother. Always so **loving**. My father wasn't there. He was, without a doubt, drinking what was left of his sanity away, safe in the dark shadow that was his illness. Madness ran through our veins. It just got to him quicker than the others. But it gets us all, in the end. Will it be in the last moments of our lives or years before our last breath. My mother's eyes met mines for a fraction of a second. I wasn't scared that she would recognize me. She was as blind as an old bat and could barely move in her own home without tripping over something, losing her usual **'high and mighty'** air. I laughed silently as memories of her little accidents flooded through my brain, my shoulders trembling slightly in amusement._ _Lightening struck, showing the figure of a dog curled up under a tree nearby."_

The alarm woke me, sending me back in my apartment. _I wasn't there, it was just a dream._ That was the difficult part, convince myself it wasn't real. Because it was. I was there, wet, and alone and _dead-but-not-really._ When I managed to shake off the dream, when I could breathe properly again, I proceeded to follow my morning routine. Shower, get dressed, apply the charms. Remembering the man I used to be, I hesitated before going through with the last part. My eyes scanned the man in front of me, reflected in the mirror above the sink. Elegant, sharp traits like everyone in my family- _they would've softened after the work was done_ \- sharp, dark, brown eyes, like my father's- _they would be a lighter colour, with an innocence that wasn't really there_ \- curly hair, light brown- _a permanent spell. No more black for me_ \- I didn't feel ready to leave _all_ of my family behind at the time so I imitated my great-grandmother's hair, Hesper Camp, as they weren't exactly telling of my heritage but were still part of it. Few changes but enough to cover my family's obvious traits. Coupled with the drastic change in clothes and personality no one would be able to ever recognize pureblooded, elegant, _royal_ Regulus Black in muggle, clumsy, know-it-all Spencer Reid.


	2. Far from home

" _The_ _only things that kept me sane all that time were, admittedly, my memories. When the lack of magic of my life in the US threatened to soffocate me, I took my wand from my closet, where it was accurately hidden. Everytime I felt the rush of pure, unadulterated, magic flooding through my veins. It was comforting to know that it hadn't been a dream. Because, you see, Magic is a part of us. And leaving it behind gave me a neverending pain, a dull one, yes, but that was always there. It was like I was slowly losing my very being._ "

One of the most painful things about Spencer Reid was his mother. Diana Reid had been in that sanitarium for a couple days when I arrived in Vegas. Her husband had left her years before that and, just a few months after I turned eighteen, she was committed after she nearly killed herself. Those coincidences were just what I needed. The fact that the Reids had, originally, a son named Spencer was another plus. The boy died when he was ten, after an unspecified accident, that was the reason the father left in the first place. So I placed spells on William and Diana, eliminated every proof of Spencer's death and prepared myself for the role.

" _His grave, though, I left it where it had always been, with protective spells surrounding it. No one could see it or even remember its existence, I made sure of it. I still go there like I used to, two times a year. Even if I released the spells long ago I can be found there on his birthday and on the anniversary of his death. No one deserves to be forgotten, especially a child who barely even lived._ "

From the start it was clear to me that, one day, I was to return to England. When that day came I would erase any traces of my life there, thus returning Diana and Willam's memories as they were before I modified them and lifting the spells on Spencer's grave.

" _I am well aware of the horrible thing I did to them in order to survive. It still haunts me everyday. There is not a moment, day or night, in which I don't think about how the life slowly died in Diana's eyes when I gave her back her memories. When she realized her son was dead and had been for a long time, that it was all an illusion. I did horrible things, all my life. True, when I was a Death Eater I did not kill, but I let others do it. Telling myself they, at least, wouldn't have to live with the consequences of my actions. Life is far more scary and far more painful than Death after all. But the Reids? They did have to live with that. They still do, everyday. That is what I regret the most. The one thing, above everything else, I wish I wouldn't have done._ "

That day came in August. It was a day like the others, I was in Texas with the team, searching for an Unsub, when one of the officer came to me with a letter. Of course, everyone was suspicious. It had been left at the precint, with my name on it. The fact that was written with green ink on parchment, of all things, did nothing to calm them down.

«Open it, the Unsub could've sent it.» Hotch ordered, without taking his eyes off of it.

Morgan was still trying to wrap his head on the matter, though, because he was unusually silent. JJ was alarmed as were Prentiss and Rossi. Everyone of them was watching the letter with wariness.

«Hotch, I know who sent it and I assure you it isn't the unsub.»

I told them, hoping they wouldn't question me.

Of course they did.

They fought, and fought hard, to make me tell them. But I could not and I didn't waver. It was hard, those people, even if they didn't know _everything_ about me, did know an awful lot and were very dear to me. Like a precious jewel, our friendship was something I warded and that I didn't want to lose.

" _I know it's hard to believe but I cared deeply for them. I still do. They had wormed their way through my heart and, unexpectedly, conquered a tiny place there. That place, with time, grew larger and larger, until, one day, I started calling them my family. With all the secrets I kept, pain I felt and mistakes I made, meeting and opening myself to them isn't something I regret. Or that I'm ever going to regret for what matters. I opened to them in a way that I never experienced with anyone besides._.. _her."_

After a long time they let it go, and I was free of opening it. I doubted they wouldn't keep harassing me later but if that letter was from _him_ then I'd keep the secret. It wasn't, after all, the only one I was keeping. And all of them were deadly.

 ** _Regulus,_**

 ** _When I helped you disappear I hoped to let you live your new life without making you ever return to England. It isn't the case. I am sorry to inform you that L.V. has returned and your help is needed here._**

 ** _If you met any magical beings, wizards or not, who could somehow contribute to the cause ask for their opinion on the matter and if they're willing to help_**. **_I'm afraid this time we'll need all the help we can get. I've already informed M.O. as well._**

 ** _I'll come to get you in half an hour, Fawkes will bring me wherever you are._**

 ** _I'm sorry, my boy._**

 ** _With regards_**

 ** _A.D._**

" _I swallowed and very nearly vomited right there. After the nausea was subdued I ripped it into tiny pieces before throwing them in the garbage can. I cannot tell you the horror, the desperation, that clawed at me and made it difficult to breath. The fear. The memories, oh the horrible memories, that flooded through my brain. Images of pain and blood, of tortures far worse than what I'd seen in my years with the BAU._ "


	3. Memories

" _I tried many times to recall the events that followed that letter but I've never been able to. The panic I felt in that moment was succesful in making my memories foggy. I remember trying to sneak out. Trying to carry out my plan of gradually removing the spells that made me Spencer Reid and, with that, erase the team's and the officers' memories of me. After that every person I'd met in that life would've forgotten me too. I was careful, placing ancient spells, one leaning on the other, as to create a massive domino once a single one was removed. As I was telling you, I tried to remember the details of that day but I was never able to. What I do remember starts with Derek Morgan."_

«Where the hell where you planning to go?»

I was baffled. Never, before that moment, had someone managed to catch me when I didn't want them to. I didn't have time to think it over, though, because Dumbledore was bound to arrive in a matter of seconds and subtlety wasn't his forte.

«Look, Morgan, my friend is coming here and I need to go meet him, alright?»

«No way. He can come here if he wants but I'm not letting you out of my sight. What with the strange letter and everything.»

I sighed dejectedly but I couldn't just stupefy him, it would've gone against the laws of the MACUSA.

So I waited and prepared myself for the worst.

" _You see, the MACUSA has very strict rules in regard of the behavior the magical folks have to respect when handling non-magic people. Muggle, No-maj, Babbani or whatever you want to call them. I know that you're wondering why did I care since I obviously already broke the rules and I admit I did but I wasn't about to risk it injuring someone. Those rules became so strict in the years where Grindelwald ruled. I wasn't there, of course, but there was tension in the air. In some ways even more than with Voldemort. Tom Riddle was powerful, yes, but he wasn't a cunning, or as intelligent, as Grindelwald. So, yeah, there was little I could do in that situation_."

With a flame, Dumbledore appeared beside me. I think Morgan nearly passed out and, frankly, it was almost worth it. After a moment where Dumbledore and Derek stared at each other in surprise I decided to give them a break.

«Morgan, this is my...friend. Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore, this is SSA Derek Morgan.»

 _"And there was never a more awkward introduction."_

«Oh! Of course, of course. I was expecting you to be alone, my boy. Pleasure to meet you, Agent Morgan»

And then he proceeded to shook his hand enthusistically.

 _"I never understood how that man's mind worked or why he was so enthusiast when it was obvious that no one was beside him..."_

Morgan shook his hand, still looking at him like he was going to pass out. He was getting paler by the moment and it truly scared me.

" _Of course, explaing everything to Morgan was hell, we had to obliviate him three times. It is a truly funny story and I'll return to that later, if we have time, for it is not important to the story right now. Like... **note a piè di pagina**_ , _I guess. Footnotes."_

After Morgan understood what was happening he looked at me like he couldn't recognize me. It was betrayal what I saw in his eyes and a lump arised in my throat. I refused to meet his eyes, fearing the rejection I'd find there. Hopefully, after hearing my story in its entirety he'd forgive me. Or so I hoped.

 _"Telling the team was_ _...heartbreaking._

 _There were laughs at first, it was a joke for them, and then, again, betrayed eyes. It hurt. It hurt in a way that I couldn't possibly explain but rest assured that it hurt and I'm never going to forget just how much. Anyway, after explaining magic and the details of the war against Him it was time to explain my role in it and, as you can imagine, I wasn't happy about it."_

«What happened to you to make you hide here?» asked Hotch after a moment of silence.

Of course it would be Hotch to ask that question, to see with clear eyes what was going on and bring the most important point to the others' attention. I hadn't expected less of him. Questioning eyes looked up at me, hurt but willing to give me a chance. I swallowed and, while they watched me attentively, memories rushed to my mind taking me back in England.

 _"I hoped my past wasn't going to ruin my friendship with them but there are some dark things there and I knew, without a doubt, that excusing those would be impossible._

 _Because there wasn't an excuse."_

 _ **23 July**_ _ **1878**_

 _ **21:00**_

 ** _Sixteen years old_ _Regulus Black waited patiently for the mahogany doors in front of him to open. The Dark Lord wouldn't appreciate his bursting in without his consent, he'd been informed. His cousin, Bellatrix, was at his side, proud as if it was her who made him chose this._**

 _ **Chose Him.**_

 _ **The doors opened gently, revealing an ample room with black, lucid, floors and emerald green walls. There were four windows, covered by silver blinds. Each was between a set on black candles, obviously magical as their flames managed to light the whole room with a silver glow. A black throne was in the middle and, on it, the Dark Lord was seated. His skin was light green and his hair were black. Red eyes observed him, chilling the very marrow in his bones. He looked like a snake, ready to bite at every false move. When He invited him to enter His voice was calm, soothing, but there was an element on danger there that made Regulus rethink his decision of joining. There wasn't time for that, however, so he steeled himself and proceeded.**_

 _ **The doors closed behind him with a muffled sound.**_

 _ **He looked back, just once**_

 _ **00:00**_

 _ **It was done.**_

 _ **Regulus Black was a Death Eater now. His mother would be proud of him, her son, holding up the family honour.**_

 _ **As he watched the black snake on his arm curl and bare his fangs, though, doubts started to grow**._


	4. Her

"Wait. Isn't your name Regulus?" asked Garcia with trembling voice.

It was then that I realized they had been staring at me suspiciously since I'd started speaking.

I couldn't breathe. When I gave a small nod in response Morgan swore softly while the others paled.

"Please just...just let me finish..." I pleaded, hating how weak I sounded. They needed tounderstand.

Not forgive, I didn't pretend that much, but at least try to understand my choices. I was desperate.

 **1978**

 **October 5th**

 **11:00 am**

 **The mark burned.**

 **It was Thursday, he was in Charms and his mark burned. Sweat rolled off of his forehead and he kept biting his lip in order to stop any pained groans from escapinghis throat. Flitwick was looking at him strangely and his fellow slitherins were trying to stop the other students from peering at him curiously. They were all too eager to help a brand new Death Eater. One that still couldn't hide the pain as well as Rabastan Lestrange, doing his spells as if he couldn't feel the pain. It was then that he noticed Maeve looking at him from her desk. Her gaze studying his left forearm with interest. She knew.**

 **1992**

"Maeve?! Like Donovan, Maeve Donovan?!"

I didn't answer. My throat was tight and my eyes stung.

 **1978**

 **October 10th**

 **20:00**

 **Maeve stopped him after dinner, five days later. He knew it was coming but he hadn't quite expected just how angry she'd be. Or the reason.**

 **Her auburn hair were in her usual plait but her gray eyes were shining with muted anger and her mouth was set in a hard line. He'd feared that moment, feared her disappointment.**

 **As always, she surprised him.**

 **"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, looking hurt by that notion, all the fire leaving her eyes.**

 **Then she folded her arms against her chest, trying to look angered but he couldn't see that much in the dimly lit classroom she'd brought him in so it didn't have the desired effect. Of course, he thought, of course Maeve would be angry because he didn't tell her rather than because of his mark.**

 **Maeve came from a pureblood family too. She knew his struggles because her brother had gone through them too, just two years before.**

 **Maeve, who he was convinced was his soulmate, would never judge him for something like that.**

 **Rather, she'd be pissed off because he didn't tell her immediately.**

 **199** **2**

The silence was deafening. I dared to open my eyes to see their reaction.

JJ was blinking rapidly, obviously fighting back tears. Emily looked at me as if I was a stranger while Garcia was openly crying, shaking her head. Hotch's and Rossi's stony masks were cracking and Morgan was studying my every move.

It was Dumbledore that broke the silence.

"Regulus we have to go now." he said and I noticed his wand was lighting up. A sign of danger on something you swore to protect.

"Wait you promised-" started Morgan in an angry tone.

"You're coming with us."

I didn't have the time to protest because Fawkes had appeared and enveloped us in flames and taken us to England.

Where I first talked to her.

 _"I won't go into details but I will tell you how it started. With the rain. It was 1974, I was in my third year and my brother, Sirius, was already planning to leave. Not yet but soon. It was September and someone slipped on the wet stone and bumped into me. There was so much rain it was impossible to see her clearly. What I saw was auburn hair and a ravenclaw scarf. Even then I knew who she was. The precise shade of her hair was a trait only the O'Connells had and I, as a young pureblood, was expected to know every ancient family and their traits. I knew the O'Connells had a daughter a year older than me. I had met her before, I was certain. I couldn't remember where exactly but I was sure of it. So, no, it wasn't the first time I met to her but it was our beginning. The event that set things in motion. It was the first time I looked at her and truly saw Maeve, bundled up in her ravenclaw robes and apologizing profusely."_

 **1974**

 **September 23rd**

 **Hogsmeade**

 **"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed the ravenclaw. He wasn't pissed off like he'd be usually because he had other things to think about. Like Sirius' strange attitude.**

 **Really, he just wanted to drink some Butterbeer and go back to the castle and the girl kept apologizing over and over.**

 **"At least let me buy you a Butterbeer!"**

 **He nodded, if it was the only way to make her stop apologizing he'd do it. She was blushing so much, the poor girl.**

 **Present**

 _"It was the start of something beautiful. I couldn't imagine, then, just how big of a part that girl would have in my life. I am grateful everyday for that chance meeting in the rain. My life could have gone differently without her._

 _Certainly, it would've been much, much worse."_


	5. Please

When I felt that my feet were on solid ground again I knew I was back in England.

 **Present**

 _"There was a different atmosphere, a different kind of magic in the air. I could feel it in my bones. We were at Hogwarts. The oohs and ahhs of the team did nothing to calm me down. Every good memory in the school brought me back to her and made me feel so much pain and longing. Yet, it felt like coming home."_

 **1992**

"Open your eyes, my boy." murmured Dumbledore so I did.

Nothing had changed. It was the same school where I met Maeve. The same walls that witnessed my years as a Death Eater and the subsequent change of my beliefs.

There was magic all around me and it made me breathless. I knew the team was watching me, studying my behaviour, but I didn't care.

"Home." I whispered, leaning against a wall when my knees threatened to give out.

"Yes, home." Said Dumbledore firmly "Now we need to remove the spells that you put on yourself. It's time for you to make your grand entrance in the Order of the Phoenix."

I nodded weakly while he handed me my wand. I wasn't even surprised, he probably stopped by my old house before coming to get me. It also explained the fact that we were able to go without removing the spells on my team: he removed the jinx I put on the landlady, thus erasing my memory from everyone but the team.

"What does he mean 'spells on you'?" Asked Rossi, looking at me strangely. He knew what Dumbledore meant, I was sure.

Without answering his question I swung my wand in the air in direction of my face, shutting my eyes when I heard the exclamations of surprise from the others. Rossi swore under his breath. I knew why; my hair had shortened, my eyes darkened and my traits had sharpened, giving me an air of elegance I lacked as Spencer Reid. As I opened my eyes I heard a playful whistle, Morgan was shaking his head and smiling softly.

"Damn, Pretty boy, you were pretty before but now..." he said, chuckling.

The others nodded, smiling weakly. I grimaced, it wouldn't be easy for them to accept my 'new' personality and looks.

"Come on, we'll go to my office. Regulus, we have to go to Grimmauld Place as soon as you're finished with your story." The professor said, looking much more calm than he was before.

His wand wasn't lit anymore, I noticed.

"Alright then. Let's get this over with, the kid has a lot to explain." Said Rossi.

I wasn't paying attention, though. The moments I had lived in those walls had enveloped me again, sending me back to one of my worst memories.

 **1975**

 **December 5th**

 **"Well you should have stayed with me!" Regulus screamed as his brother raved about the horrible things their parents had done to them through the years.**

 **Sirius stopped and looked at him as if he was seeing the ghost of a loved one, as if he was seeing his long lost brother again. And that was the problem, wasn't it? He had been there all along, Sirius was the one that had chosen not to acknowledge it.**

 **"Reggie, I-"**

 **"No, you don't get to do this again, do you understand? You stopped talking to me after I was sorted-"**

 **"Because I-"**

 **"You decided Potter was a better brother. You left." He sobbed.**

 **"Regulus..." stammered Sirius and it sounded like he was chocking.**

 **Regulus' throat felt tight and his eyes burned from unshed tears. People were watching them and there was a part of him that wanted to walk away, to give Sirius a cold glare and just stop caring about him.**

 **But there was another part, much bigger, that remembered. Remembered the brother he used to have, to love, and was heartbroken at his rejection. There was eleven years old Regulus, screaming at his brother to stop, to talk to him, just one more time please, crying profusely in the back of his mind. And he just wanted his big brother to hug him and keep him safe as he'd once promised to do.**

 **He wanted his brother back.**

 **199** **2**

"Regulus." Said Dumbledore looking at me with compassion.

Then he pointed to the stairs that led to his office. I nodded, my throat tight and my hands shaking. There was a weight on my stomach, a mix of anxiety and dread that was making me feel nauseated.

 **Present**

 _"I can't explain what I was feeling. It was too...vivid to put into words. If you've ever felt a weight that makes it hard to breathe, like a snake enveloped you and was applying pressure on your chest. If you've ever felt the anxiety that made your hands shake and the dread that filled you with every breath then you can understand. If not, you can't even hope to imagine it."_

 **1992**

"I promised you a story." I said, hiding my shaking hands in the pockets of my pants.

 **1979**

 **March 25th**

 **He walked quickly, looking behind his shoulder to see if anyone was following him. After he was sure to be alone he quickened his pace. Voldemort was powerful but arrogant so he was certain that there weren't guards where he was going. The Dark Lord was too paranoid to trust his servants with his secret. Or anything that wasn't a suicidal mission.**

 **As he reached the door Regulus used a detective spell he had found in one of the Blacks' books about horcruxes.**

 **The spell came back positive to that specific magic.**

 **He shook his head, digusted and vaguely nauseous, and stepped back into the shadows as Antonin Dolohov passed by, probably directed to His throne room.**

 **Regulus pushed away his repulsion at his finding and walked away, hoping his mother hadn't found Kreacher while he wasn't there.**

 **He knew what to do next.**

 **He just hoped Maeve would forgive him.**

 ** _The Dark objects known as "Horcruxes' are, perhaps, the darkest magic known to wizard. A Horcrux is a piece of the wizard's soul trapped in the object closest to him when he breaks his soul through murder. Horcruxes are a disgusting way to achieve a fool's desire: immortality._**

 ** _[From Tanzanian Black's Book Of The Darkest Arts]_**


	6. Whispers

**1992**

Dumbledore's office was even more chaotic than I remembered. Yet, the feeling was the same. Strange objects — _little, big, coloured, black and white, moving or still_ —littered both the marble floor and the desk, with some kind of _unusual_ candy sitting in a corner of it. The portraits were still arguing about [ _something_ ] that was [ _someone_ ]'s fault — _just like they had been when I'd last visited the headmaster._

* * *

 **Present**

 _"_ _In that room, time stood still, as if it was waiting for you to step back in the same moment you left._

 _It was a different kind of magic. One that I long to feel again..."_

* * *

 **1992**

I told them everything. From the moment I understood what horcruxes were, to my almost death in that blasted cave, saved only by — _stubborn, fierce, clever_ — Maeve. From my fights with Sirius to the last time I saw my brother — _no screams, only a defeated silence between us_. The more I spoke I could see understanding in their eyes, not forgiveness. It made me feel better. Yet, I could not bring myself to tell them about Italy, nor did Dumbledore encourage me to. No, those few months in Italy were something I'd rather bring to my grave.

* * *

 **Present**

 _"_ _I remember... I remember the deafening silence in the room as I observed them. I remember how I longed for JJ's hugs or to hear Derek and Penelope's friendly banter. I remember their laughs, the warmth in their eyes, the way they spoke... but I forgot the colour of their eyes, the shade of their hair. I forgot their faces. It hurts. Sometimes I... I swear I can hear them, in this old house. I can hear them joke and tease me from another room. I... I would give everything to... to laugh with them one more time... to have my family back. But then... everything goes quiet again and the only thing I hear is silence and I know that those times are gone. There's no one on Earth that still remembers how we were but me. We are but ghosts in my memories. I regret everything."_

"What happened to them?"

Regulus' eyes fixed briefly on the young woman sitting on the couch opposite his armchair. They seemed to study the exact shade of her blonde hair before getting lost once again. Looking in the past, searching for an answer that still brought pain to his old heart.

 _"_ _Nothing... nothing happened to them... nothing."_ It came in a soft whisper that echoed the pain etched in his features.

He repeated the word again, savouring the letters on his tongue, lips curled in a bitter smile and, in his mind, he saw the image of a woman with hair just like the ones he was looking at right then. He heard a whisper, a name that seemed to come directly from his past. From a different lifetime.

 _ **"**_ _ **Spence..."**_

A single tear escaped his eye.

 _God, what I wouldn't give to see you again, my old friend..._

* * *

 **It's super short I know but... it felt right to end it here.**

 **It's kind of a pause. Like... stop and listen, this is what is going to happen, it won'tbe happy. Stop and listen to the whispers, do you still want to know?**

 **At least, that's what it feels like for me. Next chapter will be normal, I think.**

 **I'm sorry but it's unlikely I'll start updating faster.**

 **I hope you liked it.**

 **(THIS IS NOT A DEATH FIC)**


	7. Two Brothers

As his story came to an end, the burning gazes of his friends — _family_ — made him sweat. Those people had been the most important part of his life for years. He didn't know how he would survive an eventual goodbye nor did he want to dwell on it. Slowly, deliberately, Regulus — _SpencerSpencerSpencer **Spencer**_ — lifted his head and met their eyes.

There was a sad kind of understanding there but also anger — _for he hadn't confided in them, not with the most important part of himself_ — and disappointment — _the choices he had taken in the past had brought innocents to their deaths, he was no less of a criminal than the monsters they hunted daily._

* * *

 **Present**

 _"I… I think I might need a moment to clear my head. I'm quite old and I'm starting to… forget. My memories are partly hidden by a thick fog and it takes time to… break through."_

"Of course, we'll resume as soon as you're ready."

 _"Thank you, I know it's not exactly… **easy** to work with me."_

* * *

 **June 1993**

 **Dumbledore's office**

 **My head spun as I watched the emotion slowly fade from their eyes. It was practised. In our line of work any emotion could — _and would_ — be used against us, by the press, the police and the Unsubs. So, as a mean to survive in such a hostile environment each and every one of us developed near flawless masks, under which we could sweep unwanted feelings. **

**Of course, I thought, bitterness curling in my chest and spreading through my limbs like a poison, of course they would compartmentalize this as well.**

 **As** **if it were only a case instead of their friend spilling all of his shameful secrets.**

 **The logical part of me knew that they needed it, that it was a psychological response. One that prevented them from letting their emotions get the best of them in front of a stranger and, rather than ignoring what had happened, they just wanted to analyse it in private.**

 **Still, an illogical part of my brain was angry, the need to know what they thought of me greater than I could have imagined.**

 **The only one that continued to openly share her hurt was Garcia, who had been unable to ever build a similar mask. She always showed the depth of her emotions to the world, kind and forgiving as few people were**

 **"We need… some time. To accept this." Said Hotch, as calm and collected as ever.**

 **As** **if nothing had changed. My throat tightened with the knowledge that, instead, everything had. And there was no way of returning to how it was before.**

 **Tactfully choosing not to say anything,** **Dumbledore** **showed them the way to a secluded room — _the same one where I had, at last, come clean to him and that stored various papers concerning the school and_** _ **its**_ ** _students_. **

**He shut the door behind them and whispered so that only I could hear him.**

 **"The headquarters of Order of the Phoenix are located at 12 Grimmauld Place, London"**

 **I wanted to laugh, for the look on my mother's face would have been priceless, if only she were still alive. The legendary home to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, proud** **Voldemort** **'s supporters, was now providing shelter to the very organization that worked to bring him down. It was such a shame she would never know, having died — _bedridden and completely mad_ — just a few years after my supposed death.**

* * *

 **Present**

 _"I'm ready, now."_

"Are you sure? I can wait if you need more time, Mr Black."

 _"Nonsense, we can proceed now. Where were we? Right... it's time to talk about my visit to the headquarters and, subsequently, the first meeting with my brother."_

"Wait, sir, what happened with your friends?"

 _"That is… really not important right now but I left them at the castle, to digest the news. And I needed to meet Sirius alone, for all he knew I was dead after all…"_

"If… if you say so then I suppose we can skip to Grimmauld Place then."

 _"Very well."_

But there was a tightness to his smile that hadn't been there before.

* * *

 **June 1993**

 **Grimmauld Place No.12**

Regulus followed, stone faced and clad in a black cloak to hide his identity, Dumbledore into the house and waited patiently for the professor to call Sirius.

Nervously, he let his fingers caress the old wallpaper, noticing familiar bumps on the wall from his and Sirius' childhood mischief.

Smiling slightly at the memories he let himself be comforted by the fact that his brother had loved him — _through the fights about their too different ideals and the hexes thrown left and right_ — his brother had loved him. That much had never been in doubt.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the moment where Sirius walked into the hallway.

"Hello."

Nodding in return, but without turning to drink in his brother's appearence, Regulus waited for Dumbledore to usher them both into a guest room before slowly lowering the cloak and facing his brother for the first time in sixteen years.

Sirius was not what Regulus had been expecting. The spark in his eyes was completely gone, his handsome features irremediably changed by years of malnourishment in Azkaban. Most of all, though, he appeared… _ **faded.**_

As if everything that had once made him alive — _had made him **Sirius**_ — were gone, leaving behind an empty shell where once stood a man, a brother, a godfather.

Predictably, once his eyes had analysed his features and recognized his long-lost brother under the magical changes, Sirius' first instinct had been to punch him.

* * *

 **Present**

 _"Straight on the nose."_ Concluded Regulus, the ever present shadow vanishing from his eyes to leave room for mirth.

He looked younger, Willow noticed, he looked younger and not as burdened when remembering his brother.

Then, with heartache, she remembered how that story ended and closed her eyes in grief.

The old man hadn't paid any mind to her reaction, though, because he went on, too lost in his memories to trouble himself with the world around him.

* * *

 **June 1993**

"Shit! What the hell, Sirius?" swore Regulus clutching his nose.

"What the hell? You dare to…!" exclaimed Sirius, eyes suspiciously shiny before hugging him tight, nearly suffocating him against his chest.

"I should say what the hell, you arrogant prat. I thought you were dead." He sobbed against Regulus' shoulder.

His heart thumped loudly in his chest and Regulus — _who had been Spencer for fifteen years at that point but, more importantly, had been Reggie for the first eighteen years of his life_ — hugged his brother back and let himself melt against his chest. _Eleven years old Regulus laughed, delighted, somewhere in the back of his mind, tears mercifully absent for the first time in nearly two decades._

There, held tightly in Sirius' arms, Regulus finally — _finally_ — let himself cry.

* * *

 **October 1966**

 **"Siri, wait for me." Whined Regulus, trying to match his brother's fast pace.**

 **Lestrange** **'s manor and its inhabitants scaring him enough to stray away from his parents' side to go in search of protection from Sirius.**

 **"Sorry, Reggie." Said the older child with mirth in his eyes as he playfully ruffled his younger brother's perfectly combed hair.**

 **Regulus huffed, both at hearing the despised nickname and for his hair, before letting a small, toothy smile grace his chubby face.**

 **"I'm forgiven?" asked Sirius, not quite as jokingly as he had intended.**

 **"Uh-uh," the smaller child said, nodding "But don't leave me behind again." He added as an afterthought.**

 **"Nah." Snorted Sirius "Of course I won't." he said, a special kind of tenderness that he exclusively reserved for his brother colouring his voice.**

 **Pleased, Regulus smiled and held his brother's hand tightly.**


End file.
